


Tasting Charcoal

by Coppercurls



Series: the fix-it AU I need [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mental Illness, POV Multiple, Pedophilia, Pre-Canon, Suicide, nothing graphic but I don't dance around it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 13:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20565269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coppercurls/pseuds/Coppercurls
Summary: She couldn't believe it had taken her so long.Vanya.Number Seven.Useless, Worthless, Good-For-Nothing, OridinaryAnd it wasn't all that hard. Booze and pills and notes addressed to people who wouldn't see them. People who wouldn't give a shit when they heard what she'd done.So she swallowed.





	Tasting Charcoal

“Mommy!” Emma entered the kitchen at her typical breakneck speed, nearly running into a chair but jumping up to stand on it at the last moment.

Chris chuckled at her daughter, turning back to the pasta once she saw Emma was safe. “Slow down, Ems.”

“Miss Vanya’s on the fire escape! Can I sit with her?”

Vanya was a young woman that had moved next door just over a year prior. Chris had been wary at first, a twenty-one-year-old wasn’t always an ideal neighbor, especially for a single mom with a six-year-old daughter. 

But Chris’s mama had taught her to welcome newcomers to the neighborhood, regardless of apprehensions, so a few evenings after Vanya had moved in, Chris and Emma brought her over a plate of lemon bars. 

The woman they met was subdued and polite, and she invited them in since she was just about to put on some tea. By the time Chris and Emma had to leave, all of Chris’s fears about the new neighbor had subsided. Vanya was well mannered and quiet, and though she seemed rather uncomfortable talking to them, she treated Emma warmly, and offered any help Chris would need. 

Chris learned the young woman had lived alone since her eighteenth birthday, just working any odd job she could secure, and that she had established herself as a tutor and a violin instructor while still auditioning for paid orchestral positions around town.

Chris and Emma grew used to violin music drifting through their shared wall. Emma began begging for lessons after just a few weeks, and two months after Vanya had moved in, she became one of her students.

Vanya would invite them for dinner, and when Chris had a meltdown over an online college course Vanya came over and walked her through it. She became Emma’s regular babysitter, and she and Chris had a designated tea time on weekdays. 

In all honesty, Chris considered Vanya the little sister she’d never had. 

“Does it look like Miss Vanya wants company?”

Even without looking, Chris could feel Emma’s face warp into a concentrated frown. “Um, she had a notebook out? But it didn’t look like she was writing anything.”

She hummed. “Well, doll, how about you go ask if you can sit with her before dinner?”

Chris heard Emma jumping of the chair and digging through her backpack. “I’ll bring my book! My teacher told me I had to stop reading right at a good part.”

Emma ran out, leaving Chris to call out after her. “Tell Vanya she should join us for dinner!”

“Okay!”

Chris focused on cutting up vegetables. She had to make the peppers small enough that Emma didn’t complain. Emma wasn’t too picky, but bell peppers were one of her limits. 

Emma ran back into the kitchen moments later. “Did Miss Vanya want to sit alone awhile?” Chris said after it had been quiet a moment longer than usual.

“Mommy.” There was something in her daughter’s voice that made Chris’s muscles tense, stopping halfway through dumping peppers into the pan. “Miss Vanya’s asleep. She won’t wake up. And she has a bottle of that smelly stuff Ita likes.” Chris’s heart clenched. “Is she ok?”

It’s an impossible moment, frozen, Chris can’t breathe. 

Then she jumps into action.

“Do you remember our address Em?” Chris turned to the stove and turned it off as Emma rattled of their address. “Okay doll, this is what I need you to do. Do you remember how to call 911?” Emma nods, her eyes growing wide, and Chris smoothed her hair down. “Okay, good job. Can you please call them and give them our address? Tell them your neighbor won’t wake up and alcohol is involved, and that your mom is with the neighbor. Got it?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Tell it back to me.” Chris saw the fear in Emma’s eyes, but she couldn’t let her misunderstand how important this was. 

“I call 911, I give them our address and tell them Miss Vanya won’t wake up and that there’s al-col-hall. You’re with her.”

“Perfect.” Chris’s smile was tense, but she pressed it to Emma’s forehead anyway. “The person on the phone might have more questions or need you to tell me something. Just yell out the window.”

Emma nodded, and as Chris started to move to the fire escape, she ran over to the home phone and began to dial. Chris didn’t hear anything before she was through the window and on the fire escape they shared with Vanya.

She was just how Emma said she was. She was sitting with her back against the part of wall between their windows. Her knees were pulled up, but a notebook and pen rested on them. She almost could’ve been asleep, comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt, her long hair a mayhem over head and shoulders. 

She was so still. A nearly empty bottle of Jim Beam was next to her. And something Emma hadn’t mentioned: three empty prescription pill bottles. Chris couldn’t tell if she was breathing. She couldn’t tell if either of them was breathing.

She yelled through the window, trying so hard to keep her voice even but she could hear it, sharp and shaking. “Emma, tell them there are empty medicine bottles too.”

“Okay,” she called back. Then it was as silent as a city could be.

Chris knelt next to Vanya. Chris didn’t know any first aid. Should she make her wake up? Should she check her pulse? Should she make her vomit?

She pulled Vanya’s hair from her face and tied it back with the hair tie from Chris’s wrist. And Chris held her, shaking.

“It’s going to be okay, Van, you’ll be alright. It’s okay. I’m here now, I’ve got you, it will be ok. It’s all going to be okay.”

Useless platitudes she couldn’t stop spilling from her lips. She couldn’t bring herself to check for a pulse. 

Minutes later, far too long, the paramedics arrive. “She has a pulse,” one of them says and everything is a blur. They tell Chris what hospital they’re taking Vanya to. They rush away.

Chris is still in shock, just standing there until Emma comes up and tugs on her shirt.

“Is Miss Vanya going to be okay?” Emma is scared, her voice small, and there are tears welling against her eyelids. 

Chris doesn’t believe in lying to children. ‘If they’re old enough to ask, they’re old enough to know.’ Not the full extent of every question, of course—Emma was such a curious kid—but never a lie. So Chris had to swallow her useless platitudes. 

“I hope so, doll. You did an excellent job calling for an ambulance. The doctors know what to do. They’ll do everything they can.”

Emma grabs her mother’s hand and squeezes. They’re silent a moment. Then Chris unfreezes.

“Alright Ems. I’m going to go to the hospital to be with Vanya, I don’t want her to be alone. I, um, I’ll drop you by Tia Penny’s on the way.”

“I don’t want to go to Tia Penny’s. She smells like an old person. I want to go sit with Vanya too. I’ll read her my book. That’s what you do when I’m sick.” 

Emma’s bottom lip was stuck out, and even through her tears Chris knew this wasn’t an argument she would win. 

“Okay,” Chris took a breath, “Okay, okay. Go grab the book you want to read her, and your pillow pet, and clean undies. Put it all in your backpack. I’ve got to grab some things, then I’ll meet you by the door.”

She nodded and ran off. Chris grabbed a tote bag for herself. Her favorite tea, Em’s hot chocolate, her wallet, a blanket, her phone charger, clean clothes for Vanya—Chris thought they’re around the same size. She tied Emma’s shoes and put her jacket on then her own jacket then they left to go to the hospital.

~

Vanya’s vomit looked like watery black sludge, peppered with white pills.

Vanya felt someone’s hands on her back, rubbing. Someone—the same someone?—said, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” ad nauseum. “Get the bad stuff out, it’s okay.”

She heaved and heaved and somewhere in her mind she thought there were more people in the room, more people speaking, but she wasn’t sure. 

It was too much.

She thinks she was awake longer, babbling to the person who sat with her, but she couldn’t be sure.

Memory and hallucination are all too similar.

~

Ben used to draw with charcoals.

Portraits of them all, still-lifes, abstract strokes.

Vanya thought he was good.

They would sit for hours, her playing her violin, him drawing with his charcoals. Those were some of her favorite memories. And though she couldn’t draw for love or money, she bought a set of charcoals when she moved out.

The smell of charcoal choked her dreams now.

Those memories were ruined.

She pulled out her charcoals one day, months later, and vomited.

~

An overdose was an odd thing. 

Vanya knew she had lost hours of her memories, and she thought that she may have slept some. But at some witching hour of morning, the doctors decided she was coherent enough to walk her through her plan of care.

Chris and Emma were there. Emma was curled up in an armchair, snoring in her sleep. Vanya didn’t know that she’d ever seen Chris look so old and tired.

She didn’t know why they were there. 

Vanya didn’t have an emergency contact, so why was anyone there?

The doctors were saying words Vanya swore she knew, but they were all… slippery. Like water on a duck. Chris seemed to understand, though, and she didn’t look angry, so Vanya decided to trust her judgement.

God, she was so tired. 

She thought she’d be asleep.

Her mouth tasted of booze and charcoal.

She could swallow fire.

Disintegrate.

~

In the morning, Vanya woke knowing the following things. 

1 An ambulance or some kind of hospital car had driven her somewhere. She wasn’t sure where. The sheets seemed clean and she wasn’t at home.

2 Chris had given her clean clothes and some sort of note and Emma’s favorite stuffed animal. She didn’t know where they were.

3 She had tried to kill herself.

4 She was on a mental health hold. 72 hours minimum. 

None of this knowledge was in memory. It was just there.

The sun was filtering through the windows and Vanya heard people moving around.

She fell back asleep. 

~

A nurse woke her up and said it was lunch.

Vanya didn’t move.

A nurse told her she couldn’t have rec time if she didn’t go to lunch.

Vanya didn’t care.

She wasn’t hungry.

She didn’t move.

She fell asleep.

She thought the nurse must have left.

~

Vanya woke up again, on her own this time. She blinked at the ceiling and thought about sleeping more. She sat up instead. She was wearing papery hospital scrubs. 

The room she was in was plain. Cream walls, white sheets, wood bedframes, wood cubbies between the two beds. There was a doorway in one corner that led to a bathroom. There was a door in another corner that opened to a hall. The carpet in the hallway was blue. The walls were the same cream.

She sat there, watching the way her hands were shaking. Feeling the way she was shaking. 

She shouldn’t be shaking.

She shouldn’t be there. Anywhere. 

Vanya thought about going back to sleep.

~

Before she fell asleep again, a nurse came in. A young man with such a bright smile but his stance reminded her of Diego. Ready to pounce.

“Good morning Vanya! It’s good to see you awake,” he said, wheeling a vitals cart in after him. 

“Is it still morning?” How in God’s name would it still be morning.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to confuse you. It’s nearly four thirty, and we have dinner at five thirty. Can you lift your arm up for me?”

Vanya did so. “I’m not hungry,” she said.

“You should come anyway. Interacting with others is often good for your state of mind.” When Vanya stayed silent, he continued. “Also, we’re understaffed tonight, so if we didn’t have to leave a nurse here to watch you, that would be awesome.”

He clamped a pulse reader on her index finger and watched the monitor. 

“Okay! Your vitals are looking good. Your heart rate is a little low, but not nearly low enough to involve a doctor.” Vanya still didn’t say anything. “We’ll grab you for dinner, Vanya. Get some rest now.”

Vanya laid back down. That interaction was exhausting. She fell asleep.

~

Someone came in to get her for dinner. She didn’t get up.

Someone came and told her the desk would have food for her if she got hungry before lights off. She didn’t get up.

Her roommate came in and got ready for bed, quietly and with a courtesy Vanya had never been privy to. She didn’t get up.

Another nurse came in to check her vitals. She sat up until the nurse told her she was alright. Then she fell asleep again.

~

This sleep was like a void. Time passed, but in it there was nothing. Just a gaping wound where her existence should be.

~

Vanya woke at six am the next morning, a habit she hadn’t quite shaken from the academy days. Her roommate was asleep, a vaguely human shaped blob covered in their thin hospital sheets. 

Her mouth still felt of booze and charcoal. Her head was pounding and she still felt removed. Shrouded in clouds. Still, everything hurt.

She walked to the bathroom. There was a curtain covering the doorway, she pulled it shut. Then she realized she didn’t need to pee. Her body was so empty. There was a shower. Vanya thought she remembered Chris giving her clean clothes. She should find those. And a toothbrush.

The room was still dim in the pre-dawn, so Vanya tried to show the same quiet courtesy that her roommate had shown her the night before. 

It wasn’t difficult. She just had to slip silently out the half open door. 

There was a hallway, one she remembered seeing before. Maybe yesterday. Maybe when she walked through it. She had to have walked through it at some point.

Blue carpet, cream walls. 

There were name placards outside every door. Her name was written in a neat script, different than that of her roommate. It looked like her roommate’s name was Alice. There were so many names she had never known anyone by.

To the right of her room was an emergency exit. To the left was a hallway with doors next to name plates scattered down it. At the far end was a desk with nurses behind it.

She was supposed to be at work today. Eight hours at her cashier job. She’d probably get fired.

Fuck.

Or maybe she didn’t care. 

She would’ve been jobless anyways. Just without rent to worry about.

She walked to the desk. 

The same nurse that tried to get her to go to dinner the night before was standing there, sparing her a glance as she walked up, but still typing at his computer.

“Good morning! I’ll be with you in a sec,” he said, the same bright smile on his face.

Vanya stood there, waiting. She looked around. Desk, a window looking into another room. To her right, a large empty space, almost like a lounge. There was a television there, and a partially finished puzzle.

“Alright!” Vanya looked back at the nurse as he turned his attention to her. “What can I do for you this morning?”

“Um, my name is Vanya. I think my… my friend gave me some stuff?” Each word felt too bulky for her mouth. 

“Good to see you up, Vanya! Let me take a look here for you.” He turned to a large metal cabinet and began looking through it. “My name’s Thomas, by the way. I’m on the day shift all week so you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

Vanya nods. Another new name. Thomas. 

“O-kay Vanya, I’ve got a bag here for you. Everything look okay?”

He set a paper bag in front of her. She shifted through its contents carefully. Pajama pants, sweater, and a t-shirt, none of which she recognized. They must’ve been Chris’s. A scrunchy. Chris’s phone number scrawled on a sticky note. A Magic Treehouse book and a small stuffed giraffe, two of Emma’s favorite things. The notebook she’d written in that night. 

Vanya found herself wanting to smile. So she did, a small and shy thing.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem.” His bright smile.

Vanya blinked. She forgot something. “Oh, um, do you have toothbrushes? And can I shower?”

“No showers til after breakfast, I’m afraid, it’s still quiet hours. But I’ll grab you a toothbrush and toothpaste. And some floss.”

She nodded her acknowledgement as he handed them to her, then she turned to walk away. Down a long hall filled with unwelcoming doors and untouched secrets and suddenly she was reaching for her medicine.

She should ask about her medicine. 

Thomas had already shifted his attention elsewhere but he immediately turned when she cleared her throat. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her.

“I have, um, medicine. For my anxiety.” She didn’t mention that she had downed it all two nights ago. “Where can I get that?”

“Meds are after breakfast. We can get you a print out of the schedule too, that might help you get used to things here.” He smiled at her, a warm smile. 

“I just, I’m supposed to take it as needed? And I really need it right now.” Vanya wrung her hands. She should have just left, why was she being so needy?

Thomas was frowning lightly. She had done that, she couldn’t even fade into the background right, she really was just a fucking waste—“Wait here a second, Vanya. I’ll find the pharmacy tech and see what we can do.”

Vanya barely dared to breathe. She hadn’t been here long, but this nurse was being kind to her. 

There were only three people that Vanya ever expected kindness from. Mom, Grace, of course, she literally couldn’t be anything but. Then, Chris and Emma. They were unexpected. And with them, it was almost a subconscious kindness. Like an acceptance. 

Everyone else, well, they could be polite, but even her siblings had never cared enough to be kind. 

She feels kindness from Thomas. Not simply politeness, but that quiet acceptance. He was taking her as she was, not skewing it with anything else.

It was a goddamn relief.

She wanted to go to sleep. 

Thomas came back with a woman who gave her a pill, not Vanya’s usual pill, because that was a controlled substance and they’d need both the doctor and the pharmacist to access that, but something she said may help. 

It didn’t do shit, but Vanya appreciated the attempt. 

~

She couldn’t sleep.

It’s a new way for her to die. Her being stopping a millimeter behind her vision. The ceiling was clean, the shower was wet, there were people gathering in the hall. She gathered with them. But not. 

Her body fell into the new pattern without prompting from her, and it followed the bare minimum of expectations the nurses put on her. Walk, eat, sit, don’t sleep. And she was nothing else, nothing deeper, and it was almost like another overdose. 

There was time, the damned acorn, but Vanya wasn’t with it.

As she said: a type of death.

~

[what was written in the notebook that night]

Chris,  
I’m sorry. I love you. Give Emma my violin. Please forgive me. Please don’t forget me.

Mom,  
You’ll forget me soon.

Pogo,  
You ignored me the same as everybody else but I think that’s from guilt. You’ve been some good since I left. Thanks for keeping tabs on me, I guess. But you haven’t earned my forgiveness.

Allison,  
I’m your only sister so we talk once a month. You even pretend to give a shit. You’ll do great in Hollywood. It’ll take two or three months of me not picking up the phone for you to realize I’m gone. Good luck.

Luther,  
It took you so long to figure it out. That I wasn’t an extension of Dad. That impressing me wouldn’t do shit for your rank. You were alright before you figured that out. Figure this out: you can’t be a leader if everyone is gone. There’s more to life than dressing up as a hero.

Klaus,  
You could’ve asked me for help. I would’ve played my violin to drown out the screams, I would’ve held your hand in every hospital. I wasn’t even special enough for that. You’re too self-centered to even look my way in desperation.

Diego,  
You tried to eat a worm when we were eight. So I tried to punch you in the face. You threw me to the ground and said I needed to have a power before I could fight. You called a few days ago, for thirty minutes. I said five words. “Hey,” “that sucks,” “yeah,” “bye.”

Ben,  
Thanks for sitting with me, in such silence we each could have been alone. Thanks for the idea.

Five,  
You better not be here because if so I can’t see you and if I can’t see you you’re a ghost and that means you’re dead. You better be somewhere else, trying new things, being free in a way we never could. I still wish you came back for me.

Dad,  
Fuck you.

~

Thomas didn’t typically work in the adult acute care hall. He was typically assigned to the rehab wing, or occasionally the detox hall. But adult acute was understaffed this week, what with two vacations and a family emergency among their staff, so some administrative higher up decided he’d be there all week. 

It wasn’t all that different, if he was being honest. Ghost-like figures, people piecing themselves together after a tragedy, all varieties of coping, people making the best of being separated from the world. 

The largest difference was that there was a more intensive hall that adult acute could transfer any… extreme cases to. If he was being honest, that was a relief. 

The hall was at three-fourths capacity. Sixteen people.

Three weren’t in rehab, but still struggled with substance abuse. Four domestic abuse victims pushed to extremes. One man in for self-endangerment, he said he was figuring out what he was good for. One barely eighteen-year-old dropped off by her parents. Two with mild psychosis, one of which his doctor thought was misdiagnosed PTSD. One for endangerment of others. One eating disorder. Three suicide attempts, all for their various reasons. 

In rehab, so many of their stories were so alike. Just fun house mirrors, the details changing but the subject the same. But there were so many different people in acute. So many stories. 

There had been three new admissions since he’d been in the hall. Vanya Hargreeves was one. 

The second morning she was there, the first time she had left her bed, she came up to the desk, and she had smiled at something he said. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Thomas had expected. She was one of the suicide attempts. 

She was the first one awake that morning, over an hour before breakfast. He kept an eye on her once she came out to the day room, but she just looked out the window. 

He kept track of the other patients as they began to filter in. He tried to murmur their names as they did. There was a much quicker turnover there than in rehab, and he was struggling with that already.

Holly, domestic abuse. Braidon, psychosis/PTSD. Rob, endangerment of others. Maggie, eighteen-year-old. Jared, substance abuse.

The rest, he and the other two day nurses had to wake the rest of them for breakfast. Rachael (eating disorder) and Will (domestic abuse, admitted overnight) choose to miss breakfast, so one nurse had to stay behind.

These long stay hospitals were so scheduled, it was easy to fall into habits. It was easy to keep track of everyone. 

Breakfast -> meds/personal hygiene/morning check in -> morning group/ meet with doctors -> fresh air break -> morning visitation -> reflection -> lunch -> rec time -> life/coping skills -> fresh air break -> free time -> afternoon group -> fresh air break -> group activity -> dinner -> fresh air break -> evening visitation -> personal hygiene/meds -> movie/downtime -> lights out

There was a color coded bulletin board and everything. Some patients opted out of some morning activities, which could restrict leisure activities and increase visit length, but it was their prerogative. He was happy to see that five patients had visitors that morning: Bre (substance abuse), Braidon, Damien (suicide attempt), Kent (self- endangerment), and Vanya. 

He always tried not to eavesdrop, but it was inevitable. And, though he regretted the invasion of privacy, it was nice to see some kind of brightness. It was more genuine here, not just people clinging to an escape from their haunting trauma.

Bre’s sister was in. They greeted each other with a brief hug, then sat to talk about the process of getting Bre admitted to a long term stay at a facility focusing solely on substance abuse. It sounded promising.

Braidon’s roommate was in, and he seemed to spend the entire visit showing Braidon pictures of his cat. They called Thomas over to look once.

Damien’s father was in, and though he looked so weary, he and Damien were talking. Thomas caught enough to understand that he was bringing Damien to live with him after he got out, which was the next morning, first thing.

Kent’s girlfriend was in, apologizing for not being able to pick him up that evening, but they shared a chaste kiss as she left, so Thomas assumed it would all be okay.

Vanya had two visitors, a woman not much older than her and a young girl. Thomas hadn’t caught their relation, but the girl was chatting nonstop about missing school that day and how her friend tried to steal her favorite chapstick the day before. The woman talked about finding a new apartment so that Vanya would move in. Vanya looked overwhelmed, but her face looked relaxed, a look he could tell wasn’t natural for her. 

That afternoon was rec time, a session that adult acute care shared with rehab. Thomas would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to seeing his usual patients. 

A number of the adult acute patients decided to stay back, Vanya was too tired, Will still hadn’t left bed, Cheyanne (psychosis) had begun to hyperventilate and shake. 

He brought up the rear and allowed the therapist to explain to the patients what that day’s activity would be.

A quick scan over the rehab patients made his heart sink. There was a new and familiar patient among their ranks. He listened to the man’s introduction.

“Hi everyone! I’m Klaus, and today’s question, ummm, yeah, yeah of course, favorite celebrity,” his laugh had a manic edge, “Allison Hargreeves, of course.”

The day’s activity was, apparently, collaging, but once the patients were released to their creative endeavors Klaus danced over to Thomas. Which meant he hadn’t even detoxed yet. 

“Tommy!” he cheers and gives an enthusiastic double high five. “I was starting to think you’d dumped this fuck house!”

“And I thought I told you I didn’t want to see your ugly mug around here again, yet here we are.”

Klaus laughed at his quip. This was his third stay in the last year and a half, and Thomas had learned that whenever he was physically capable, boisterous humor was the way Klaus had to interact with the world. It was best to play along.

And, in all honesty, the guy brought some levity to this place. For everyone.

“In the psych ward then?” Klaus asked, and he sprawled across the floor. Thomas leaned against the wall, still carefully looking over the rest of the patients as he chatted.

“Adult acute care. They had some holes to fill this week.”

“Well, I miss you boo.” Klaus giggled a moment later, for seemingly no reason.

“Go make a collage, I’ve gotta earn my paycheck.”

But Thomas didn’t enforce his words, and he chatted with Klaus the rest of the time block, indulging his melodramatic side as Klaus reveled in his own.

Thomas still wished he hadn’t seen him again. That Klaus wasn’t back in rehab.

~

Emma hadn’t thrown a tantrum since she was four. She was seven now, a big kid, so she absolutely wasn’t throwing a tantrum. Seven was too old for a tantrum.

So even though she was crying and clenching her fists and nearly yelling at Mommy, it was. Not. A. Tantrum.

“I wanna see Miss Vanya! You said we couldn’t go tonight because of homework, but we can’t go tomorrow morning either?”

Mommy was slumped against the kitchen counter with her eyes closed. It was how she looked when she had a headache and asked Emma to try and be quiet a while, but she looked so much older now. Emma would feel bad, but Miss Vanya was in the hospital.

Hospitals were a big deal. Grandpa Teo had died in one. 

Miss Vanya wasn’t allowed to die in one.

“You’ve already missed two days of school, doll,” Mommy said. “We can visit her tomorrow night.”

Emma felt snot start to dribble out of her nose. “That’s too long!”

“She’ll be okay, Emma.”

“You don’t know that! What if they’re mean to her? They won’t even let her have her violin!”

“They’re doctors, they’ll know how to take care of her. She’ll be back in a few days!”

Mommy was getting upset. Well, Emma was upset too. “Why don’t you want me to see her?”

Emma was yelling. Mommy was crying now, she sat heavy on a seat at the table. 

“We’ll see her tomorrow night! Sit down, Emma!” Mommy took a breath and seemed to calm down, but Emma was still shaking with anger. “Look, work on your homework, and I’ll order pizza. Miss Vanya will want to hear about what you learn in school.”

“I’ll go see her myself then!”

Emma swiped at the tears on her face and ran from the kitchen. She slammed her bedroom door once she was through it. 

She looked at her Rapunzel watch. The little hand pointed at the five and the big hand pointed at the eight. She stuck her lip out. The little hand meant it was five o’clock. For the big hand, each number was five minutes. Five eight times was… forty. It was five forty at night.

The nurse at the hospital told them that evening visits started at seven.

Emma put on her shoes, her Velcro light-up sneakers. She put on her zip up jacket. She remembered Miss Vanya and Mommy telling her that nighttime was dangerous. 

While she was thinking of what she could bring to protect herself, she heard Mommy go to the bathroom. And she had an idea. 

When she fell off her scooter in the summer, Mommy had sprayed something on her knees. Anti-something spray. It hurt so much. It was in the towel closet.

Emma snuck out of her room as quietly as she could, and she heard Mommy turn on the shower. She nodded. That would give her more time. She dug through the first aid tub until she found what she was looking for. ‘Antiseptic spray.’ Perfect.

She also saw a flashlight. In the last Magic Treehouse book she read, Jack and Annie had gotten lost in the dark. She grabbed that too and shoved them both in her jacket pockets.

The last thing to do was to get money for the bus. Miss Vanya had showed her how to use the bus. They took it to the museum and the zoo a lot. Mommy gave her three dollars a week for vacuuming and helping with laundry and putting away dishes. She grabbed some bills from her piggy bank and shoved that in her pockets too.

The window to her room didn’t open to the fire escape, but she had climbed across the gap before. In minutes she was carefully pushing the bottom of the ladder to the ground. 

It wasn’t dark yet. The sun was still up but Emma clenched her fists in her jacket. Mommy didn’t like her running around by herself.

But she needed to see Miss Vanya. 

She nodded to herself. Jack and Annie would do this, she thought. They cared a lot for their friends. They would visit Miss Vanya in the hospital, so Emma could too. 

The bus stop was empty when she got there, but she could feel all the grown-ups watching her as they walked by. Her school told them to scream if someone grabbed her. And she had the antiseptic spray. It wouldn’t be fun to be sprayed in the eyes with that.

The bus came when the little hand was pointing at the six and the big hand was pointing at the one. Six oh five. 

She climbed on the bus. Looking all around her. Mommy was going to be so mad. 

The bus driver watched her as she got on the bus. 

“Hey, kid, you’ve got any parents with you?” She asked.

Emma shook her head. “Does this bus go to the Hill Water hospital?”

The bus driver’s face loosened, softened. “Near it, honey. You got someone to visit?”

Emma nodded. “My aunt. How much money do I give you?”

The bus driver was shaking her head before Emma finished speaking. “No charge today. My name’s Glo. What’s yours?”

Emma chewed on her lip. Mommy and Miss Vanya told her not to talk to strangers, but Glo seemed nice. Still… “Annie.” She stuck out her hand and Glo shook it with a smile.

“Alright, Annie. Let’s get you set up.”

Glo sat Emma in the seat right behind the driver’s seat. She glared at anyone grumbling about the hold up. She told her that the stop by the hospital wasn’t for a while, at least forty-five minutes. She told Emma to holler if anyone gives her any trouble. 

Jack and Annie met plenty of nice people as well as mean people on their adventures. Emma hoped that Glo was one of the nice people.

The bus ride seemed to take an eternity. Emma felt like everyone on the bus was looking at her but looking away when she looked at them. A few people met her eyes though. A woman with really high heels. A kid a little older than her who was standing next to his mom. 

Then there was The Man. He smiled every time she looked up, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It was an evil wizard smile. Emma kept her hands in her pockets, one clenched around the spray. 

Evil wizards would lock people up and they could turn into animals. Mommy would tell her stories about evil wizards who kidnapped princes and princesses and heroic dragons and knights and random commoners that would try to rescue them.

Emma didn’t know that she could fight an evil wizard. Not without a sword.

The Man kept watching her, staying on the bus stop after stop, sometimes getting closer to her. 

People kept watching her. 

The little hand on her Rapunzel watch pointed a little past the six and the big hand was almost at the four. That meant it was… almost six twenty. That meant there was still at least thirty-five minutes until she was at the hospital. 

Maybe she should tell Glo. 

She chewed on her lip.

After three more stops, The Man sat in the seat one seat away from her. Emma froze. 

She hoped there was another stop soon, she could get Glo. 

But The Man started talking. “Aren’t you too young to be traveling on your own?”

Emma didn’t think she should answer. Mommy and Miss Vanya told her not to talk to strangers. She shouldn’t talk to strangers. Especially not one with an evil wizard smile.

So she kept her mouth shut.

He chuckled when she didn’t speak. She was so scared. “Hey, kid, I’m just trying to talk to you. It can get lonely. On the bus.”

Miss Vanya got scared sometimes. Emma had been with her a few times when it happened. She started talking about music scales. C major, no sharps and no flats. G major, one sharp. Emma asked her about it after, once Miss Vanya had started breathing normal. She said thinking about something, making her brain follow a pattern, helped cut through the panic. She could fall into the pattern and focus on her breathing. 

Emma didn’t know the music scales too well. But she was learning multiplication tables at school.

Two times one is two. Two times two is four. Two times three is six. Two times four is… eight.

The Man was still talking. He was scooting closer. 

Two times five is ten. Two times six is twelve. Two times seven is… thirteen… fourteen. Two times eight is sixteen. “Honey,” evil wizard voice, “Why don’t you tell me where you’re going? I can get you there safe.” Two times nine is eighteen. Two times ten is twenty. That’s all in the two times table.

“My stop is next, you can get off with me, I can get you dinner and drive you home. We wouldn’t want you alone.”

Three times one is three. Three times two—“Come on, sweetheart, tell me yes—” is six. Three times three is nine. Three—he was right next to her—three times four is, is twelve. Three times five is fifteen three times—his hand is on her knee he’s saying something she isn’t breathing—six is eighteen times seven is, is twenty, twenty-one. “Get off with me,” the bus was slowing.

Emma shot to her feet. “Glo!” She stumbled with the bus’s movement, but she was by the driver’s seat soon. “Are we close?” She felt like she was on the edge of tears.

“Soon, Ann- what’s wrong?”

That was enough to start her crying. “A man, he started sitting next to me. He, he’s trying to get me to go home with him.”

Glo’s face turned terrifying in her anger. She shifted the bus into park and stood, walking back. Emma watched, tears still streaming down her face. 

“Hey, man, it’s time for you to get off.” Her voice was scary. 

“I paid the fare!” The Man sounded angry. 

“And it’s time for you to get off. Unless you want the police involved.”

“Just get off, dude!” some other voice yelled from further back in the bus. 

The Man kept complaining, but he moved to get off. He shot Emma a glare as he got off. She was shaking. 

Glo came back up to the front and kneeled down in front of Emma. “Are you okay, Annie?” 

Emma nodded her head. “Thank you.”

“Okay, we have a few more stops but then I can drive you right up to the hospital doors.” Glo smiled a soft half smile. “This chair should be big enough for the both of us. Scoot over.”

Emma sniffled and wiped at her tears as she climbed to the far side of the driver’s seat. Glo sat next to her, and as she drove, Emma knew she was in the way. She couldn’t bring herself to move, though. She felt safe there. 

Her Rapunzel clock said that it was just past six fifty when the bus pulled up outside the hospital. 

“Thank you, Glo,” she said as she moved to get off the bus.

“Of course, honey. Stay safe. I hope your aunt is doing well.”

Emma hopped off the bus and buzzed to the door. She made it. 

She walked up to the front desk and waited for the nurse to look at her. “Hi! I’m Emma Peterson and I’m here to visit Vanya Hargreeves.”

~

The doctors said they wanted to try changing around her medication in the long run, since what she’d been on wasn’t working. Apparently, even though she’d been on those meds for nearly two decades, one suicide attempt was enough to scrap them.

The doctors said that might have been part of the problem. That she had likely built up an immunity, especially as it had fast acting components. 

She was on a schedule to taper off that one, and they were introducing a veritable army of meds for her to take to balance out that come down, to allow her to re-stabilize without crashing and burning.

At some point, someone had explained to her all of the effects and uses of her new drugs and how they would interact, but God, she was tired. She hadn’t retained anything. She hoped her doctor could walk her through it again. At that moment, though, she was just exhausted. 

The ceiling was cream and she had participated in hospital activities all day.

It took so much energy out of her.

The nurses were all friendly, they were paid to be after all, but, more surprisingly, most of the patients were friendly as well. She had met her roommate, Alice, and they had filled in a color-by-number together.

She had never made… friends before but she thought this could be how it happened. Being friendly and spending time together.

She’d have to try it more once she left.

That was the trick, wasn’t it?

She’d be leaving. 

And the real world was just as harsh as when she’d left it.

Beyond even her drug addled numb, the hospital wasn’t truly real. There were barely any decisions for her to make, all her time was spent learning to heal. She had brought Emma’s stuffed giraffe with her to group therapy that afternoon and no one commented other than the girl younger than her saying, ‘Cute.’

And she was resting. There was no to-do list running in her mind without end, she had another day before there was anything for her to do.

She felt like Grace; turned off and recharging. 

A knock sounded on her half open door. It was one of the woman nurses: short, dark, spikey hair.

“Hey Vanya,” she said softly. “You’ve got a guest. We’ll be heading to the lounge in just a few minutes.”

Vanya was more than confused. She was alone in the world other that Chris and Emma, and she hadn’t even realized they cared until she killed—tried to kill herself. If her siblings or Pogo knew she was there, well, maybe they’d visit? But there was no way they could know.

She sat up and took a moment to regain her bearings. Then she walked to the end of the hallway and waited for the other patients to be ready.

She scanned the tables as she followed a nurse into the lobby. Anxiety was thrumming in her veins, making her feel more aware than she’d been in weeks, in years. She had absolutely no idea what she was walking into.

When she saw that figure sitting in a chair too large for her, she froze, causing the patient behind her (Rachael?) to run into her.

“Emma!” Vanya said, and she rushed around the tables and chairs to get next to the child. “What are you doing here? Where’s your mom?”

It was only when she was kneeling right next to Emma that she processed the dried tears and snot on her face, the way she clutched her hands in her pockets before she flung herself at Vanya. Vanya found herself with an armful of sobbing seven-year-old.

Emma was blubbering, and talking directly into Vanya’s shoulder, but she was still able to make out most of what was said.

“Mommy said we couldn’t visit tonight or tomorrow morning and I don’t know why she doesn’t want us to see you but I wanted to so I snuck out and took the bus here, just like you taught me and the bus lady was really nice but there was an evil wizard man and I was scared but I’m here and you’re okay!”

It took Vanya a moment to take that all in, but when she did, she eased Emma off her shoulder and held her a little bit away, just so Vanya could meet her eyes.

“Emma, does Chris, does your mom know you’re here?”

The girl shook her head, tears streaming freely down her face, hiccupping lightly.

Vanya’s heartrate skyrocketed. “Oh my god, we have to call her, she’s freaking out.”

“Maybe she didn’t notice? She made me go to my room.” Emma blinked, and that hope sagged instantly. “Miss Vanya, she’s going to be so mad.”

“Oh, honey.” Vanya hugged her again, held her close. “She’s just going to be so happy to find you.”

Once Emma’s crying lightened up a bit, Vanya clutched her hand and walked over to the nurse she recognized.

“Um, we need to make a call.” Vanya could tell the nurse was about to object, but she continued. “Her mom doesn’t know where she is.”

Vanya didn’t know where her confidence was coming from. Even in crises she had always been meek before. Maybe Emma was just too important. Maybe she was healing. 

It felt like a whirlwind as she and the nurse and Emma figured everything out. It felt less like she was wrapped in cotton balls and saran wrap and more like there was a texture to her fingertips. She thought on healing and how it would be to play music in clarity.

Apparently living shrouded in gray and clouds and apathy was a symptom of major depressive disorder and she had never wanted to shake it more.

Emma sat next to her in a lobby room chair and Vanya refused to let go of her hand even as her sniffles died off and she kept trying to use her hands to aid her dramatic retelling of her current book.

Chris was there barely ten minutes after they got off the phone with her. She was just as tearstained as Emma had been when she showed up.

Vanya watched them blubber over each other and suddenly the pit in her stomach—the one that had contained all those pills and all that booze—opened again, starving. 

Back in the academy days, Vanya went missing once. She had just turned fourteen and she made Five his sandwich in the dead of night then slipped out the side door. She went to Griddy’s. Then a waitress realized she’d been there for over ten hours and offered up her couch. She returned to the mansion three days later when she realized she had no idea what she was doing. When the waitress and her boyfriend started to—

When she got home, Luther and Diego and Allison barely blinked, Ben and Klaus and Mom just smiled, Pogo was the most welcoming with his, “Glad to see you Miss Vanya.” Her father told her to give him notice of her absence in the future so he could anticipate not having her assistance. 

No one had ever cried over her the way Chris was crying over Emma. 

A part of her wondered how long it would take her to gather the pills and guts to kill herself again. 

That part of her wouldn’t shut up. Not when Chris pulled her in and she was covered in those joyful tears. Not when she was in bed falling slowly to sleep. Not when she woke in the middle of the night with the memory of charcoal in her mouth and she again began to pray to the porcelain god.

~

For Ben, rehab was boring.

It was guaranteed that Klaus would be at at least 80% bitchiness the entire stay, and Ben couldn’t handle that level of bitchiness for thirty days straight. 

In one of their rare mutually serious conversations, Ben had admitted to this. That being around Klaus constantly not only could piss him off but could tire him out. Klaus had admitted to the same thing, that while Ben was his fraternal soulmate, that he needed to breathe sometimes with one less pair of eyes on him.

So they had an understanding. And a safe word. ‘Serendipitous.’ Klaus had both picked it and assured Ben that it would never come up accidentally in conversation. 

Ben lasted the entire first day in rehab before he broke. 

It was in the common room as Klaus was once again telling his fucking chocolate pudding ass wax story, sparing none of the details, that Ben basically shouted their safe word and fucked off to wander the hospital.

It must be said, Ben had a lot of respect for patient confidentiality. It was just that he was dead. And he literally couldn’t talk to anyone other than Klaus, so it was barely even intruding for him to wander and listen in to anything he came across.

The children’s wing always hit him like a punch to the gut. They all reminded him so much of himself and his siblings.

Just because he had made his peace with having committed suicide when he was seventeen doesn’t mean he would ever wish that kind of suffering onto any kid.

The detox wing was a no-go, and Klaus would fill the entirety of rehab with his energy, so that was a hard pass. 

The intensive psych ward just broke his heart, to watch nearly all the patients need a nurse as a constant companion. 

Ben liked this recovery facility though, so he wasn’t about to complain to Klaus about being bored. He mainly liked it because of the lack of ghosts. There were some, of course, but the building hadn’t been a hospital for long. It was a school before, but that’s when it had been built. There was definitely something here before that, but Ben didn’t know what it was. Only one ghost predated the school, and that was a man who fancied himself a cowboy, even though Ben had his doubts. They were so far east.

That left him the adult psych wing. It still hurt him to see the suffering, but he’d also get glimpses of the world without the filter of a homeless addict. 

Klaus asked him once why he didn’t leave the grounds, go visit their siblings, or travel. He forgot what bullshit answer he had given Klaus, but the truth was that he wanted to be close to his brother. He would visit the siblings that were still in town sometimes, when Klaus was sleeping, or up to some sexual escapade, but rehab was to support Klaus.

Even if he had to support Klaus from a few halls away. 

It was that night, when he was walking through the lobby on his way to the adult psych hall that he saw someone he recognized. 

A little girl. It took a moment to place her, but he recognized her a minute later as one of Vanya’s students, the girl that seemed to be at Vanya’s half the time. 

His heart clenched as he wondered why she was there.

The little girl was decidedly not Klaus. As such, she wouldn’t be able to see or hear Ben, but he sat next to her anyway. She was alone and tear-stained and he hoped that his being there would somehow give her comfort.

He just talked at her a little while, until a vaguely confused and concerned nurse led her to the visiting room. He kept talking until the nurse led the patients in.

If he had blood it would have run cold. Right behind the nurse, wearing a gigantic sweater and a haunted expression was—

“Vanya,” he breathed. 

He stood, as if to greet her but she ran through him, to the side of the young girl. 

His brain was stalling. Just Vanya, Vanya, Vanya, Vanya. 

And he couldn’t do anything but watch as Vanya comforted the girl. But Vanya was the one in the hospital.

Being a ghost allowed Ben to follow her. It was proving hard to process what he’d seen, even after he followed Vanya to the lobby. After Vanya hugged the woman and the girl goodbye.

Ben watched that night as his little sister slept, still as the stars in the sky but her eyes never stopped moving under her eyelids. The way that nightmares held the body, he’d seen it in Klaus enough. Hell, he’d experienced it enough.

And when Vanya bolted awake in the dead of night and emptied her stomach into the toilet again and again and again, Ben couldn’t hold her hair back. Couldn’t rub her back so she knew she wasn’t alone. 

Once she settled back into sleep, Ben went to find Klaus.

~

When Klaus was coming down, when he was detoxing, he barely slept. So Ben found him easily in the day room. He was writing, scribbling. Klaus never talked about anything he wrote, and Ben wouldn’t ask.

But in cases like that, Ben would interrupt, no matter how hard the shakes were holding Klaus’s fingers. 

“Klaus,” Ben said, frowning when Klaus only hummed a nonsense tune in response. “Klaus, this is important.”

At that, Klaus laughed, tossing his paper and pen into the air to fall in errant arcs to the ground. “Benny Boy!” he yell-whispered, “We’ve got all the time in the goddamn world! A whole twenty-nine more days til we have to worry about pesky things likes quick fixes and food.”

Yeah, Klaus was definitely bitchy this morning. In his defense, he was withdrawing. Ben didn’t care to have sympathy at that moment though.

“That might be all you’re concerned with, but I just saw Vanya—”

“You left me?” Klaus whined. 

Ben ‘smacked’ him in the head, making the movement but not connecting. “I didn’t leave you, dipshit, you’re in rehab. She’s here.”

Klaus frowned. “To visit? She shouldn’t know I’m here, HIPAA and all that.” He was mumbling now, waving his hands, gathering his paper again.

“I don’t think she knows you’re here.”

“Then why—?”

“She’s in the psych ward, you ass.”

Klaus froze, but for the fluttering of his hands. He’d long grown used to Ben’s insults, so his stillness must have been from surprise. Or concern.

“She’s… here? Like, here here? As an inmate?”

“Patient,” Ben corrected automatically. “Yeah.”

“What happened?” He had sprung to his feet, pacing around the room, almost dance-like.

“I couldn’t ask! But one of her students visited, and she was having nightmares, and she puked so much, dude. You need to visit her.”

Klaus snorted. “Oh yeah, I’m sure a visit from her junkie brother is just what she needs—”

“Klaus.” Ben filled his voice with as much cold as he could manage.

“Fuck off Ben.” A moment’s silence. “Fine! You won! I’ll ask Thomas.”

“He’s day shift,” Ben reminded. 

Klaus blinked and began looking around. “What? Ah, quarter four, quarter four, he won’t be in for a few hours. We’ll wait.”

With that, Klaus began to scribble again.

“Can you get me a book?”

Klaus did, running to the bookshelf and grabbing one at random. The DaVinci Code. Ben wasn’t sure it’d be any good, but at least he hadn’t read it before. Every couple minutes Ben would prompt him to turn the page, but the rest of that early morning was spent in quiet.

~

“Dearest Marina, I love you, you know I do, but I need Thomas. Tommy! The man, the myth, the legend.” 

Ben had to admire the way Klaus could twist words with each inflection. When it came down to it, he could be nearly as convincing as Allison if he wanted to. Ben was glad that he’d decided seeing Vanya was worth it. 

“Klaus,” Marina’s voice was stern, she was the nurse least susceptible to shenanigans, and Ben typically respected her for it. “You know that Thomas isn’t working this hall today.”

“I know! I know. But, Ri Ri,” Klaus fluttered his eyelashes, “this is of absolutely dire importance.”

Marina rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do Klaus.”

Klaus gave her an overexaggerated bow and flounced back into the day room. Other patients were milling around now, having just returned from breakfast. Klaus didn’t return to his writings.

If Ben was right about what point in withdrawal Klaus was in, he’d be feeling alright right now, especially with the minimal ghosts around the hospital. It’d been about a day and a half since his last fix, so his body had gone through the initial detox and reset. 

That afternoon, though, it would be rough. It’s always the second day without substance that the body realizes it’s not getting more. The afternoon would be wracked with chills and hot flashes and nausea and vertigo and the cravings would shake him so hard. Shake like a freshly cracked glowstick. 

But in that moment, Klaus was alright. 

Ben hoped against all hope that they would be able to see Vanya before it got worse. 

Klaus poured himself onto the seat for the rickety piano. He plunked at notes freely, blatantly ignoring the glares from one of the other patients. The plunking transitioned into half hearted scales, and Ben remembered one of his few good memories from the academy. 

When they were six, they had been encouraged to pick up an instrument, as it was proven to aid in the cognitive development of children. Most of them dropped their assigned instruments quickly—Ben would still cringe about Diego’s attempts at the drum set (he’d picked up guitar in the last year, he was getting good)—but Klaus, and obviously Vanya, had kept learning.

That had always confused Ben, because Klaus didn’t love the piano as much as Vanya loved the violin. Then Ben was dead and Klaus said that the piano could be enough to drown out the ghosts some evenings. 

They were just past eleven when Klaus had dragged them all to an unused sitting room. It was a concert. Violin and piano. Vanya and Klaus. 

Drugs worked better than the piano.

They all grew up.

Klaus would still remember how to play sometimes. That morning in the hospital, his fingers tripped from the scales to clumsy Tchaikovsky.

He fell into it after a moment, less mistakes were made as his muscle memory surfaced. Some of the patients didn’t seem to care whether there was music or not, but the glaring man from earlier had nodded. 

Ben didn’t think he ever finished a song, just transitioning into the next, no rhyme or reason.

Maybe he and Vanya could play together again sometime. Ben would like that.

Group therapy started before they heard anything from Thomas. Ben half-heartedly tried to convince Klaus to stay for it, but Klaus just breezed through the door and took up a position sprawled on his back on the hallway floor.

Not the location Ben would have chosen, but it was as functional as anywhere else.

It took so much for Ben to stay with Klaus, to not go and sit with his little sister even though she couldn’t see him. He knew Klaus was not strong against temptations, and that he’d be tempted to avoid a meeting with his estranged sister.

Ben couldn’t let that happen. 

He needed to know what had happened. 

A side effect of death was that he didn’t often care for time. It would happen and he would be by Klaus’s side. And it wasn’t like Klaus kept a nine-to-five schedule, so Ben typically didn’t mind the passage of time. Not really a point for him to. 

That morning, as Klaus star fished across the hall like a veritable fire hazard, Ben checked the clock religiously. Every three minutes at the most, Ben would travel to the nurses’ station to look at the computer clock. That’s how he knew that it took until nearly eleven for Thomas to show up. 

Klaus had fallen asleep by that point, still on the hallway floor, still steadfastly refusing to participate in rehab activities. Thomas snorted and sat down next to him, shaking his leg lightly to wake him.

Klaus shot up like a spring, seemingly fully awake despite his previous sleep. “Major Tom! You came.”

“Yeah, I heard you requested my company. I don’t have long though.”

“Yup, yup,” Klaus hummed, deciding his words. Ben prayed he’d follow through. “I caught sight of an old acquaintance in your crazies hall—”

“Adult acute care.” Thomas and Ben spoke at the same time.

Klaus just flapped his hand at them. “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I know you can neither ‘confirm nor deny’, but if you happen to interact with a Vanya Hargreeves, could you let her know I’m here? And see if she’d be down for a visitation?”

Thomas sighed. “I’ll see what I can do to contact Vanya. No promises.”

“Of course, of course.” There was the briefest pause before Klaus vaulted back into speech. “Get back to work, slacker.”

Thomas stood, brushing off his pants. “I’m back in this hall next week, Klaus. I’ll see you then.”

Klaus cheered and Thomas left. Ben said, “Serendipitous,” and followed Thomas to Vanya.

~

They were holding her toothbrush at the desk and she didn’t think she could move that much. 

It was easy. Staying in bed. Her roommate hadn’t left the room at all the previous day and Vanya was considering doing the same.

She’d be leaving tomorrow, she wouldn’t let them hold her longer. They couldn’t hold missed groups against her. And maybe if she didn’t eat, the acid in her throat and mouth and coating her tongue wouldn’t have power. 

Her roommate didn’t move and neither did she but she was still vomiting again before the others had returned from breakfast.

The doctor said in was a psychological reaction to the trauma of the past few days. Vanya thought that sounded right. Vanya thought that maybe if she could keep emptying herself to nothing then she’d be right.

If she was nothing it wouldn’t matter that she was alone.

That everyone who was meant to care about her were gone and the people that cared would never care about her more than casually. 

They said they were giving her new medicine but she wanted a pill.

Her fingers itched for a cap.

Maybe seven.

She heaved.

~

Some point in the morning after she had crawled back to bed, a nurse came in with a glass of water. It was the nurse she’d talked to the day before. Thomas.

She forced herself to sit and take the water from him. She didn’t drink though. She waited.

Thomas waited too, just for a moment. “How’s your day going, Vanya?”

Vanya didn’t know that she had a voice. Acid in her throat in her mouth. She nodded. 

“You should try to drink some water. You’ve been sick.”

She nodded and took a small sip. 

He waited another moment before he spoke. “There’s a patient here, in another ward. His name’s Klaus Hargreeves.” Vanya watched the water in the cup begin to shake. “He’s tried to get in contact with you, through your home phone, but obviously he didn’t get a hold of you. I thought I’d, well, give you the chance to give him a call.”

Klaus.

Vanya opened her mouth and it was so hard. The words were coated in vomit and so much harder to get out.

“Can—Can I call him?”

“Yeah, for sure. I can dial the number for you.”

She followed him from her room and to the phone hanging at the end of the hallway and then it was ringing. 

“Hi, um, I’d like to talk to Klaus Hargreeves?” Her voice sounded foreign. 

“Um… Yes, that looks alright, let me put you on hold a moment, ma’am.”

Vanya waited. Then… “Hello?”

“Klaus?”

“Vanya! It is you!”

“Hey, yeah, um, you’ve been trying to call me?”

Klaus paused. “Um, yeah! Yes, yes. Rehab baby! Wanted to talk to my loveliest sister.”

“Allison is your loveliest sister, Klaus.”

He called because there was no one else. He didn’t actually want to talk to her.

“Not at all, Van-Van. How’s your life going? It’s getting depressing here with all my peers.”

“What is it that you need?” Vanya felt tears slip silently down her cheeks. “I can probably pay for rehab, um, do you need me to vouch for you in a trial? A ride? An address to put down so they’ll let you leave? What is it?” Her voice broke. 

“I…” He laughed. She could practically hear him pasting on his fake smile and getting ready to crack a joke. Then he deflated. “You’re right. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Just, give me a call later,” Vanya said. “I’m busy this week, but next week?”

“Yeah, yeah!” The fake energy. “When I’m discharged we can grab donuts! Just like old times.”

“Sounds great, Klaus. Keep me updated.”

She couldn’t bring herself to hang up. She just stood there with the receiver in her hand. Long after she thought she was alone again, Klaus’s voice echoed into her ear.

“God, I really fucked that up.”

She heard the dial tone and couldn’t help but agree.

~

Chris felt she had aged a decade. But when she got to the hospital to pick up Vanya, the young woman looked somehow worse. 

She was wearing the sweater and pajama pants they’d left her, and her hair was pulled up so sloppily it still managed to shield half her face. She was holding a brown paper bag to her chest, presumably with the other things Chris and Emma had left in it. Chris realized she’d forgot to bring shoes. She could just pull the car around.

The doctor had talked to her about Vanya’s release plan. 

“We want to keep her longer,” he’d said, “but she’s adamant. Are you able, and willing, to help her get to some doctors appointments in the next month?”

“Of course,” she’d said.

“Good. It’s likely she could try and harm herself again soon so we…” 

Chris pulled Vanya into a hug. She had so many questions, so much to discuss with her friend, her new sister. But Vanya was curled up in her car seat as small as she could go and Chris knew it could wait.

Back when they thought her husband would return from the war, they’d told her he’d be different. That there’d be an adjustment period, she’d need to be patient.

She thought Vanya would need that adjustment period now. 

So they got to the apartment—they’d need to find one for all three of them—and Chris put on the kettle for tea. She chose a movie from her and Vanya’s ‘to-watch’ list. It was a sci-fi. 

She didn’t know when it happened, but the movie was droning and Vanya was pressed into Chris’s side. She’d never let them be that close before. Their tea was growing cold and Vanya’s silent tears were beginning to soak through Chris’s shirt.

Chris wouldn’t have it any other way.

~

**Author's Note:**

> So
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> Might be a "fix-it" au if people are into it, but this is all I've got right now. It was supposed to be 2k words so rip me


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